


A Little Help From My Friends

by lls_mutant



Category: Glee
Genre: Gen, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, aftermath fic, post-prom fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-13
Updated: 2011-05-13
Packaged: 2017-10-19 09:10:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lls_mutant/pseuds/lls_mutant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New Directions may not always act like they're friends, but they're family and they've got each others' backs.  And they've got Kurt's back after the prom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Help From My Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Kappamaki33 for the beta!

  
**Mercedes, Sam, and Rachel**

  
The prom king and queen dance was easy to watch once Blaine started dancing with Kurt. There was that awful moment there when Karofsky ran away from Kurt like he was diseased, but Mercedes knew that Blaine wouldn't leave Kurt hanging. Mercedes was almost glad she was busy singing, because otherwise she might have been tempted to jump in first and it was much better this way. Kurt was actually smiling as he danced with Blaine, and owned it. All of it. Mercedes was proud of him.

But when the dance ended, her trepidation began again. It was supposed to be Kurt and Blaine performing next, but Tina, Lauren, and Brittany muscled towards the stage, and after a little rearrangement of the band they launched into 'I Know What Boys Like'. People were laughing and getting into it, and Mercedes saw Kurt and Blaine step to the side, both of them relieved. Now that the focus was off them, they looked tired.

"Nice one," Sam said to her as she returned to their little group.

Rachel nodded and smiled. "ABBA is quintessential prom fare and rather facile, but your harmonies were excellent."

"Thanks," she said, smirking at the half-compliment.

Sam wrapped one arm around her waist and one arm around Rachel's. "Some prom," he said, glancing back at Kurt and Blaine.

"Yeah," Mercedes agreed. Sam dropped his arms, and she went over to their table to grab her glass of punch. She didn't feel much like dancing, even if Lauren was killing the song.

But when the girls finished, Blaine took the stage alone. Mercedes swung around to see Kurt forcing a smile and giving Blaine a thumbs up as Blaine starting singing 'Collide'. It was supposed to be a duet, but Mercedes could understand why Kurt didn't want to sing. But he looked so awkward just standing there by himself, watching his boyfriend perform.

"What a lousy way to spend a dance," Mercedes said, watching Kurt rock back and forth on his heels. "I'm going to-"

"No, don't," Sam said, catching Mercedes by the wrist. She was about to argue with him, but Sam just smiled. "He needs something else right now." When Mercedes stared at him, Sam's smile deepened. "Just follow my lead." And he walked over to where Kurt was standing.

Kurt turned when they approached, and it was obvious he was jumpy and nervous. Mercedes didn't blame him. But Sam just held out his hand to Kurt and said, "Hey. Want to dance?"

Kurt stared at the offered hand blankly. "What?"

"It's prom," Sam said with a shrug. "People dance. Want to dance?"

Mercedes could see Kurt looking around, probably wondering what kind of reaction it would get. She couldn't blame him, because she felt the same way. But Rachel was quicker on the uptake and grabbed Mercedes' hand. "Right," she said, smiling brightly. "Friends dance at prom." Mercedes suddenly got it and laughed.

"All right," she said to Rachel, "but who's leading?"

Dancing with Rachel was tough, because Rachel wanted to be "the girl" and at the same time, Rachel's natural bossiness extended to her dancing. Mercedes had to keep her distance to keep her toes from being stomped on. Sam and Kurt managed much more smoothly, and Sam was saying something that made Kurt laugh. Rachel steered Mercedes so they were a little closer, and they heard Sam ask if Kurt coul twirl his scepter like he'd been twirling the drumsticks in rehearsal. Kurt laughed again, and Mercedes was aware of people looking at them. At all four of them. But Kurt and Sam were both ignoring the onlookers, and grim pride welled in her. She lifted her arm and twirled Rachel under it, and Rachel's skirt flared out like a ballerina.

"Gorgeous," Kurt declared as he watched them, just as the song ended. Sam and Kurt pulled apart easily, but Rachel hugged Mercedes and then pulled the boys into the hug, too.

Kurt's scepter dug into her back and Rachel stepped on her toe, but Mercedes didn't care. This was close and happy and even though it wasn't Cinderella, it was exactly what prom is supposed to be.

  
 **Artie and Brittany**

  
Brittany had danced with him. It wasn't all of what Artie wanted- he really did want her back- but she was smiling and she was in his lap and she was happy. And with the night he'd just had, he wasn't going to complain, because things could have _definitely_ been worse.

"She does clean teeth, you know," Brittany said sympathetically. "She did it to me once."

"With pliers?"

Brittany nodded. "With the little rough part. I had a white smile for _weeks_."

Artie quickly formulated a theory that this was why they found out that Brittany has never been to a real dentist before, because he sure didn't want anyone near his mouth _ever again._ It had been a really shitty night, and that didn't count anything that had happened to anyone else.

The gym was emptying out, but Brittany was still dancing to music from a computer that had been hooked up. The music wasn't loud, especially after the live stuff, but she seemed like she was enjoying it. Artie wished he felt like dancing.

Across the gym, Kurt and Blaine were talking to Santana, Tina, and Mike. They were all laughing, but even from where he was sitting Artie could see that it was forced. Brittany noticed him watching and frowned a little.

"It's been a hard night for a lot of people," she said.

"Was Santana disappointed?" Artie couldn't help asking. As soon as the words were out of his mouth he regretted it, especially when Brittany gave him her best flat glare. "Sorry," he muttered.

Brittany nodded silent acceptance of his apology. "She was," she conceded. She was cutting Artie slack, and he hated that. Although he had to admit if he ever deserved it, he deserved it tonight. But Brittany obviously didn't want to dwell on the subject, and her eyes went back to the group.

"Should we go over?" Artie finally said. Because while he didn't want to be anywhere near Santana Lopez, Brittany's iciness was understandable. Because Kurt's night had been just as bad as Artie's, and it would've been really petty of him to think that Brittany wasn't thinking about that. "I feel like we should say something to him. To them."

"What would you say?" Brittany asked.

And that was the thing. Artie didn't know. It wasn't that Artie didn't want to support Kurt, it was just that he had no idea what would help him most right now, and he was too tired to figure it out. He and Kurt weren't ever close, and while they worked together really well and they got along in a lot of ways, they really had very little in common outside of glee. They weren't good friends, even if they were family in the way that all of New Directions was family.

Family. Artie's head snapped up and he looked at Brittany. "Brit? Has anyone told Finn?"

"Finn?"

"About what happened with Kurt? He should know, shouldn't he? So when Kurt comes home-" Brittany nodded, and Artie pulled out his phone eagerly. He scrolled through his contacts and dialed, and waited impatiently for Finn to pick up.

It wasn't much, and he knew that, but somehow he knew it was exactly what Kurt needed him to do.

  
 **Quinn**

  
This was _not_ how prom was supposed to go, but Quinn had owned it, for the most part. Reason had returned and she realized that if people had actually voted for who they _wanted_ to be queen and not made it into some sick joke, she would have won. Especially if Finn hadn't gotten kicked out of the prom. Although she really didn't want to think about that, and for the most part, she'd succeeded.

Until she stepped outside into the cool night air, and realized that she didn't have a ride home.

 _Fuck Finn_ , a little bit of her thought and she ruthlessly shoved it down. Although after what he did, he could have been considerate enough to stick around and make sure she got home. A breeze blew, and she shivered.

She heard voices behind her. "You ready?"

"I'm… I'm ready."

Quinn turned around and saw Blaine and Kurt leaving the gymnasium as well. They were hand in hand, which she'd only ever seen once, and Kurt's shoulders were back and his head was high. Blaine was staring at him like he was a hero, and Quinn grudgingly admitted that maybe he was. He was still wearing that crown and she had to admit she was a little bitter about it, but given the circumstances, she was not going to say anything.

"Quinn." Kurt spotted her and put on a determined smile. "Where's Finn?"

"I was hoping you would know."

As if on cue, Kurt's phone rang. Kurt rolled his eyes dramatically and answered the phone.

"Where are you?" he demanded, instead of saying hello. "Your girlfriend-"

"Me? Where are _you?_ " Quinn was standing close enough that she could hear Finn's voice from Kurt's phone. "Are you all right, dude?"

Something passed over Kurt's face and put a dent in his smile. "I'm fine," he said, too brightly. "Why wouldn't I be?" But he walked away a little and lowered his voice. Quinn shivered as the breeze picked up again.

"Here."

Quinn turned to see Blaine shrugging off his jacket and handing it to her. "You don't have to-" she began.

"You're freezing in that dress," he pointed out. "Besides," he said, his face twisting bitterly, "I'd like to protect someone from something tonight."

"Thank you." She took the jacket. When she put it on, she could smell the carnation on the lapel and the scent of Blaine's cologne. It was nice- a lot nicer than what Finn always wore on the rare occasion that she could convince him to wear it. Blaine had good taste.

The two of them stood silently side by side, waiting for Kurt to finish talking. But the silence wasn't bad. In fact, Quinn found it rather comforting, because Blaine hadn't seen her campaign for Prom Queen and he had no idea what a fool she felt like tonight and he had bigger things on his mind.

Finally, Kurt came back. "Finn's coming," he told them. His smile seemed a little easier now, but Quinn's slipped a notch. "He also suggests that when he picks us up that we all go for ice cream."

"Ice cream," Blaine repeated incredulously.

"Ice cream," Kurt said, and his chin jutted out. "There's a place that's still open."

Quinn knew a fight shaping up when she saw one, and she also knew how to end this one immediately. "Ice cream sounds great," she lied, and just like she thought, Blaine capitulated.

"Ice cream does sound good," he agreed. Other students were still leaving and Quinn knew they were being watched, and she pulled Blaine's jacket tighter around her.

She wasn't sure why she agreed to go, and she was even less sure when Finn pulled up in the Navigator and opened the door for her. "You want to follow us in your car?" Finn asked Blaine, making it clear that he wanted a few moments alone with her. But Blaine looked at Quinn, and Quinn shook her head ever so slightly.

"If it's all right with you, would you mind swinging back here when we're done to get my car?" Blaine asked.

"Whatever," Finn said.

They rode in silence for a while. In fact, Quinn thought she could cut the tension in the car with a knife. Finn looked half-angry, half-guilty, she was furious with him, and when she glanced in the back, Kurt and Blaine were looking out opposite windows, although their entwined hands rested in the middle seat. Quinn was really beginning to regret doing this.

However, once they got to the ice cream place the ice cracked. The waitress commented on how they were dressed and told Quinn she was a lucky girl to have three hot guys as dates, and they all laughed and started talking about the sundaes. Finn threatened to get the huge one that was meant for four people, but before Quinn could argue, Kurt lit up. "Let's do it," he said. "Let's get it and split it."

And that was how Quinn found herself sitting in front of a giant sundae with hot fudge and caramel and eight different kinds of ice cream and enough whipped cream to make it look like a cloud. The guys all laughed and dug in, but for a moment, Quinn wavered. Her mind was counting the calories and fat grams, and this wasn't in her plans for the day. But then, neither was having Finn tossed out of prom over _Rachel_ or losing her crown to Kurt or sitting here with the three of them, so she gave in and picked up her own spoon.

And oddly enough, while they ate and laughed and teased each other, everything felt normal and right. Because maybe this _was_ how the night should have ended, Quinn realized. Kurt and Finn were brothers, and they were now on a double date.

Funny how they'd never done that before.

Finn picked up the tab over Blaine's protests and then drove them all back to the now deserted school to get Blaine's car. But once they were there, Quinn suddenly felt that exhaustion descend again. She didn't really want to end this evening with Finn alone, because she was still _really_ pissed.

It was Blaine that spoke up. "I know it's not the most romantic thing," he said apologetically, "but Kurt… if you're all right with it… should I give Quinn a ride home? And let you and Finn get home together? They're in opposite directions, and it's getting late."

"As long as I get my goodbye," Kurt said, and he slipped out of the car to say good night to Blaine. They disappeared, and Quinn cleared her throat and looked pointedly at her lap.

"So, um…" Finn began.

"I don't want to talk about it, Finn. Not right now."

Finn fell silent for a long moment. Quinn wondered what was taking Kurt and Blaine so long and risked looking in the side-view mirror. All she could see without turning around was Kurt's back from the side. Blaine's arms were around his waist, but his hands were definitely not wandering, which was good since she really wanted to go. She knew she shouldn't begrudge Kurt this, but she wished he would hurry up already.

"Look," Finn said, stupidly insisting on having this conversation. "I know you don't want to talk about it, but I am sorry."

"What are you sorry for, Finn?" Quinn asked in her best ice princess voice.

"For… for getting in a fight. For ruining prom for you. I know you wanted this to be perfect."

Quinn was saved from having to answer by Blaine knocking on her window. She leaned over and gave Finn a peck on the cheek and then slipped out of the car. She didn't hug Kurt before he took her spot, but she did lean over and kiss him on the cheek. Kurt's smile was that fake everything's-all-right one that she'd seen him wear a lot.

Quinn knew her own was a lot better. She said her goodnights and followed Blaine.

Blaine's car was nice. He held the door for her and she settled in. The seats were leather and the dashboard was fancy. Blaine got in the driver's side and sighed.

"What a night," she said, when he didn't say anything or move to start the car.

He smiled at her. It was a sad, tired smile, but she noticed that his skin was a little red around his mouth. "What a night," he agreed, and started the car.

They made it a mile when Blaine said, "Can I ask you something?" Quinn nodded. "Why'd you make us go for ice cream? You didn't eat much of it."

Quinn frowned. "I guess… I guess because I didn't want everything to end so badly. If we'd just gone home, Finn and I would have had a fight and you and Kurt…"

"I wouldn't have fought with him."

"No," Quinn agreed, and she meant it. "But you deserved a happier ending to the prom. Something that you _want_ to remember. Ice cream might not be all that glamorous, but I suspect it was better than anything else that would have happened."

"Well… not _anything_ else," Blaine said, and it took Quinn a minute to realize that yes, he's said exactly what she thought he said. He winked at her, and she couldn't help laughing. She leaned forward to fiddle with the radio.

"Got any good music?"

He turned on the radio, and the two of them ended up singing along the whole way home. Quinn knew she'd never remember what they sang, but she didn't care. Surprisingly, their voices sounded quite nice together. Better than she ever sounded with Finn.

Blaine walked her to the door, and suddenly, Quinn remembered she was wearing his jacket. She slipped it off and handed it to him. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," Blaine said, with a little bow and a quirk of his lips.

Quinn stepped in and hugged Blaine tight. He yelped a little with surprise, but he let her hug him and even hugged her back. The hug went on, and Quinn knew without question that Blaine needed it. When they pulled apart, he wiped at his eyes.

"Thanks," he said finally, and his voice was hoarse. "I mean it. Thanks. For everything."

"I didn't do much," Quinn protested, and Blaine shrugged.

"You did enough. Thanks, Quinn. Have a good night." Blaine made a motion that would be like tipping a hat and headed back to his car. As he did, his head lifted and he flung his jacket over one shoulder.

Quinn smiled grimly and went inside.

  
 **Finn**

  
Finn didn't want to admit it, but the car felt better without Quinn and Blaine. It shouldn't have- without Blaine, Kurt was slumped against the door and his smile was gone. But it did. It felt more honest.

"All right," Finn said as they drove down the street. "Stories."

"Stories?" Kurt repeated.

"What do you want to tell Mom and Burt about tonight?" Finn asked. Kurt's eyes widened and he sat up.

"Oh my God. I hadn't even thought…. He's going to say 'I told you so.'"

"He won't," Finn said lamely, not really believing it. Although, to be fair, Burt had surprised him a lot of times before this.

"He will," Kurt said with certainty. "He'll tell me-"

"Hey." Finn stopped him. "Calm down, okay? If you don't want to tell him, we won't tell him."

Kurt nodded and exhaled slowly. "Okay." He gathered himself a little more. "Okay. Thank you."

"That's why we're talking about this now," Finn said. He shifted. "I kind of don't want to tell them about getting kicked out of prom for fighting, either."

As soon as it was out of his mouth he realized it could sound like blackmail, but fortunately, Kurt took it as commiseration. "Right," he said. "So, we had a lovely time, Karofsky and Santana won prom king and queen, and we went out for ice cream after."

"Talk about the early evening the most," Finn agreed.

"We could sing 'Friday' to them," Kurt suggested, and started to sing. " _Friday, Friday, Friday-_ "

"Stop!" Finn ordered. "No more Bieber!"

"But that's not-"

"No. More." Finn shut off the engine. "Got it?"

Kurt smiled back at him. "Got it," he said, but as he got out, Finn could have sworn he was humming it. "Ready for this?" Kurt asked as Finn unlocked the door.

Finn nodded. "Let's do it." He pushed the door open.

***

"You think they bought it?" Kurt asked as he came down the stairs. He was wearing a t-shirt and pajama bottoms, his feet bare and his hair washed and unstyled.

"I don't know," Finn said from his extremely comfortable position on the couch, where he'd been waiting for Kurt. His feet felt a lot better out of those shoes, and he always forgot how uncomfortable tuxes were until he got back into old sweats and soft shirts after wearing them. "Your dad kept watching you. Like he was waiting for you to change your mind."

Kurt sighed. "Yeah. And Carole kept coming back to Rachel. She really doesn't like Quinn much, does she?"

Finn frowned and shoved a bowl closer to Kurt to change the subject. "Chips?"

"Ugh. How can you even think about food after all that ice cream?" Kurt complained, flopping on the couch next to Finn. "Tell me you got milk though."

"One glass of warm milk," Finn said, handing it to Kurt. "Think it's going to help you sleep tonight?"

"No."

"Yeah. Me either." Finn shifted so Kurt could put his feet up on the table, too, not that Kurt ever did. "Want to watch a movie?"

"It's one o'clock in the morning," Kurt replied. Finn shrugged, and Kurt rolled his eyes. "Sure."

"Which musical?" Finn asked.

"I thought you'd go for _Die Hard_ ," Kurt said.

"I kind of figured you trumped me tonight for comfort movies."

Kurt chewed his lower lip for a second, and then grinned a little. " _How To Train Your Dragon_ ," he suggested, and Finn jumped off the couch to get it.

"Perfect choice," he agreed after he'd put the DVD in. He settled back on the couch and pulled the bowl of chips into his lap.

It was so warm and comfortable in the room. A movie they both liked (although neither of them would advertise the fact), chips and milk, and no one else. It was always easy to be with Kurt when there was no one else around, and Finn felt like there wasn't a show being put on or an audience watching. Maybe that was why he wasn't surprised when, fifteen minutes into the movie, he finally realized that Kurt was crying. Not loud, noisy sobs, but just quiet little hiccups.

Finn put the chips down and, without looking at him, just wrapped an arm around Kurt's shoulders and pulled him in close. Kurt fell against Finn's chest and began to really cry, and Finn found the remote and paused the movie. He didn't know what to say, but he had the feeling maybe he didn't need to. He just let Kurt cry into his t-shirt and patted his shoulder awkwardly.

Finally, Kurt's sobs began to ease up. Finn groped around behind him and managed to find a tissue which he handed to Kurt. "Don't blow your nose on my shirt," he said. But he kept his arm clamped around Kurt's shoulders, found the remote, and restarted the movie.

He had to shift a little against the couch, but he'd watched movies with Quinn or Rachel leaning on him, and he found himself getting his body into the same angle. They both shifted so Finn was half-sitting, half-laying, and Kurt was pretty much laying, using Finn's torso as a pillow. They watched the rest of the movie like that, until Finn's arm and bladder began to protest.

"Okay, off," he said when the credits started rolling. "I really have to pee." Kurt laughed and moved, and Finn made a beeline for the bathroom. While he was in there, he could hear Kurt blowing his nose.

"You know," Finn said when he came out, "Burt's onto us."

"I know," Kurt said glumly. "And Carole knows something's up, too. And the entire glee club can't keep its collective- or individual- mouths shut."

"We're going to have to tell them tomorrow," Finn sighed.

"Or sometime soon," Kurt temporized.

"Yeah." Finn sat back down on the couch. "We can do it together."

Gratitude was written all over Kurt's face. "Thanks."

"Any time."

  
 **Mike and Tina**

  
When Tina met up with Mike for lunch, she was still yawning. "Maybe I should have gotten more than four hours of sleep," she said.

"You can sleep tonight," Mike pointed out. "Or we could have slept last night…." He wrapped an arm around Tina's waist and waggled his eyebrows.

"No way," Tina laughed. "Prom sex _is_ the best sex. Besides, you looked hot in that tux."

"I had to," Mike said. "Because a woman like you deserves arm candy."

"Damn straight," Tina said cheerfully.

They made their way into the restaurant, and the smells made Tina's stomach growl. "I'm glad we're not doing the dim sum thing, because I _really_ want a burger," she said.

A guy in the booth behind them put his arm around his girlfriend, knocking Mike in the head in the process. "Hey, watch it," Mike said irritably. He turned back to Tina. "Idiots."

Tina nodded. She was about to ask what Mike was getting when there was an explosion of laughter from the table behind Mike.

"I know!" one girl said. "Did you see his face?"

"I thought he was gonna piss his pants," one of the guys added.

"Gotta wear pants to do that," another pointed out. "You saw what he was wearing, didn't you? A fucking _skirt_."

Tina's hands closed tight around the menu and she scowled. When she looked up, Mike was staring at her with his eyes wide.

"I mean, really," one off the girls was saying. "What did he expect? You can't act like that and not think that people are going to just lie there and take it."

"I don't know," a quieter girl said. "I felt bad. I really thought that Jessica deserved to win prom queen. She's so nice to everyone. And she got screwed."

"Did you see him trying to get Karofsky to dance with him?" one of the guys howled. "Good thing Karofsky ran before he got the gay on him."

"It's happening to all the guys in Homo Explosion." The laughter was a little more deliberate now, and when Tina glared at the table, she saw the speaker looking right at her, a guy named Tom. "I mean, we all knew Hudson was a closet case, but Puckerman's got himself one hell of a beard, and Evans-"

Mike slammed his menu down. "Enough! All right? Enough!" he shouted, turning to face the table. "We're sitting _right here_."

"Did someone say something?"

"Yeah," Tina said, standing up. "We said something."

A part of her couldn't believe that she- that _they_ \- were doing this. But at the same time, they needed to. Because they were TinaandMike, the shy couple who kept their heads down too often and didn’t get involved in the drama and just… just kept their mouths shut.

"We said something," Tina repeated. "And we're going to keep saying something. Because what you did to Kurt was _wrong._ "

"No, what _he_ is is wrong," one of the girls said. "He should just get the fuck out of Lima. Or die in a fire."

"How can you even say that?" Tina shot back. "He's not-"

"Hey, Chang," one of the guys spoke up, "I thought Chinese guys were supposed to keep their women quiet. Or are you taking lessons from Puckerman on having a fattie whip your ass?"

It was only because Tina knew Mike so well that she saw it coming at all. Mike launched himself at the guy, getting off a good punch in the face before he was grabbed by the manager, who pulled him back.

"Hey, hey, hey! Break it up!" Mike stepped back, but his eyes were blazing and his fists were still clenched, and the laughing jock he'd attacked was now sporting a bloody nose. All Tina could think was _good_. But the manager didn't agree. "This is a place of business, not a bar fight," he yelled.

"They started it," one of the girls said, pointing at Mike and Tina. "We were just sitting here and then they attacked us."

There were eight of them, and two of Mike and Tina. The manager looked back and forth between them. At the eight plates of food, at the two Asian kids who hadn't ordered yet…. Tina wondered how much of the fight he'd heard, too. And she wasn't surprised when he looked at Mike. "Get out," he ordered. "Before I call the cops."

"But we-" Mike began.

"Come on, Mike," Tina said, grabbing his hand, because _cops_. "I've got a real craving for some dim sum, anyway." She pulled him away, not looking back.

"We should have fought it," Mike said once they were outside. "We shouldn't just let them chase us out."

Tina sighed. "He was going to call the cops, Mike."

Mike swore and punched his hand, and then shook it. "Ow. But… when they were talking like Kurt about that, and the rest of us…."

"I know." Tina sat down on the curb. "I keep telling myself we should have spoken up about the prom queen thing. But we didn't _know_ they were going to do that. No one told us."

"I know." Mike sat down next to her.

"You remember that quote we read in history, about how I didn't speak up when they came for the trade unionists and the Jews because I wasn't a trade unionist or a Jew, but then they came for me?"

"It's different than that, Tina," Mike said. "We thought… we thought that Kurt was right. That people just didn't care he was back."

"Yeah, well. We know better, now," Tina said, kicking a stone. She frowned. "Mike, on Monday… it's all going to start up again, isn't it? For Kurt? People shoving him into lockers and slushees and…."

"Yeah. It is." Mike's shoulders dropped.

Tina nodded. "When it does," she said carefully, very deliberately, "we can't avoid drama any more."

"Hey, we've always supported Kurt. Well, since glee started."

"We've supported him," Tina agreed. There was a lump in her throat and butterflies in her stomach, because the idea of loudly flying in the face of everyone in school wasn't one she relished. "We've listened to him and been his friend and we've comforted him. But we've never really started telling people they were wrong. We've never really taken the initiative. We've just… waited. And mostly stayed quiet until things got bad. When we go in there on Monday, we have to start talking. We have to start saying what we think."

Mike nodded and swallowed. "You're right," he said. "It wasn't our fault-"

"Of course not," Tina said. "No one would have told us what was going on, because we would have told Kurt. But now-"

"Right." Mike nodded again. "Right," he said, with more confidence. "So do we walk back in there and set the record straight?"

"I feel like I should say yes," Tina said, looking over her shoulder. "But at the same time… it's not because I'm afraid of social rejection."

"It's I'm afraid of getting the shit beat out of me in a place where we don't have witnesses around," Mike finished.

"Yeah." Tina's eyes began to burn, and she wiped at them angrily.

"But at school…" Mike said, taking her hand. "At school, we can do this. All right? I'm not just saying that to make us feel better. We _can do this._ We'll start speaking up. Okay?"

"Okay," Tina agreed, and they kissed.

"Come on," Mike said. "Their burgers suck here, anyway. Let's go get a good one."

  
 **Puck and Lauren**

  
"Bets on the school still standing?" Puck said as they got closer.

"Huh?" Lauren shifted her bag to the other shoulder.

"You ever met Mr. Hummel?"

"No," Lauren said. "What's he like?"

"I'm pretty sure he'd take a flame thrower to the place once he hears what they did to Kurt."

"You think he's got a flame thrower?" Lauren said dryly.

"He's a mechanic. He's at least got a welding torch or something."

Lauren nodded, assimilating that new information. Then she said, "Twenty bucks that it's still standing."

"I'll take that," Puck agreed.

The building came into view. "Toldja," Lauren said. "It's made of bricks. Now, if you'd said Mr. Hummel has a wrecking ball, then I would have gone for it being down."

"Sort of wish he'd done it," Puck muttered. He flopped down in the grass. "Now we've got to wait."

"I still can't believe that you dragged me to school a half hour early," Lauren grumbled, but Puck ignored it and scanned the parking lot. It was starting to fill up already, but mostly with the sort of dweebs who got to school early to use the library and finish homework and shit. But here and there he was spotting cars he knew; cars of the guys on the football and hockey teams. Cars of the guys he was friends with.

Sort of, anyway. At least, that's what he still called them.

He was debating taking a minute and seeing if Lauren would go for a quick makeout session when she got to her feet. "There they are," she said, pointing to where the Navigator was parking. "Remember, keep your hands to yourself."

"You always ruin the fun," Puck complained, but he got up and followed her. "'Sup?" he said as they were close enough to actually talk to Kurt and Finn. "You catch the game yesterday?"

He fell into step beside Finn, and Lauren took Kurt's side. They'd talked about it, and she was better off over there anyway, because she was allowed to hit people and he wasn't, unless he wanted to go back to juvie. But if Puck knew anything, he knew a dumpster toss was planned for today. And when they got closer and saw several guys standing near it, he knew Kurt knew it, too.

"What's up, Puckerman?" Clemmings called. "Got a double date?"

"You wish, Clemmings," Puck shouted back.

"That didn't make any sense," Kurt muttered.

"Shut up," Lauren ordered him good-naturedly. Puck held his breath as the four of them walked by the dumpster, the others' eyes on them the entire time.

"Dude," Finn said once they were passed. "That was intense."

"An understatement," Kurt said. He looked calmer today. Pale and nervous, yes, but at the same time, resolved.

"So," Puck said, "we were wondering. Did your dad flip his lid the other night?"

"Yes," Kurt said, like it was the most irritating question ever. "He did. It took all three of us to keep him from pulling me out and sending me back to Dalton. I think the only reason he didn't was because Finn convinced him he'd have gotten into worse trouble last night if I wasn't there."

"You didn't even do anything," Lauren said. "You were across the room."

"I know," Finn said, and he sounded extremely pleased with himself. "But they bought it, hook, line, and sinker."

Puck was about to say something about Finn's mom being as gullible as he was when they nearly ran into a wall of people. Seven puckheads. But what Puck's eyes focused on were the four slushees in hand.

Four slushees. Four of them.

"You could at least use cherry," Lauren said as they closed in around the four of them. "I really hate the blue kind."

Puck closed his eyes, and the ice went flying.

He thought puckheads would all leave. He heard the laughter, and that was usually what you _did_ after a slushee. You left the victim to their own humiliation. But before he could get enough ice and syrup off his face to open his eyes, there was a voice in his ear.

"You won today, Puckerman. But you won't always be around to protect him, and when we get Hummel alone, he's going dumpster diving again."

That chilled Puck more than the ice running down his shirt did. "You're not gonna get the chance," he shot back.

"We'll see about that." And then they were gone, laughter swirling in their wake, and Puck was left wiping ice-cold goo off his face.

"You did that on purpose," Kurt said. He looked comical with his wide eyes blinking out of a purple face. "I mean, the dumpster, and taking the slushee with us. You did it on purpose."

"Well, yeah," Puck said, starting to steer them towards the bathrooms. "I told you before you left that we've got your back Secret Service style. I meant it."

"I hardly know what to say," Kurt said.

"I do," Finn jumped in. He extended his hand to Puck. "Thanks, man."

Puck slapped it. "They'll go back to someone else soon enough," he told them. "I've already got all kinds of plans on how to sic them back on Jewfro. Especially after the shit he said about me and Lauren. They should be off your back in a week."

He didn't know if that was true. He sure as hell wanted it to be true, but his street cred was taking hit after hit. But it wasn't just him looking out, it was Lauren, too, and some of these assholes were really learning to appreciate just how much of a badass Lauren was.

"Look," Puck said once they were in the safety of the bathroom. (Lauren ignored the sign.) "I picked my side, okay? I know what side of the slushee I'm on now. It's where I want to be."

Finn and Kurt both smiled, but it was the look in Lauren's eyes when he said that that made Puck feel like the biggest badass in the world.

  
 **Santana**

  
"This is bullshit," Dave said, tossing the red satin jacket into his locker. "Bullshit. It didn't do a damn thing."

"You don't know that," Santana said, without any enthusiasm.

"No, I do. We just thought we were doing something. But all it did was _shit_."

"For Kurt," Santana pointed out. She didn't really give a shit about the other dorks, but she also knew that if Figgins was giving this lame speech, that's exactly what he'd say. "How many times did we pull people off other dweebs?"

"Who are dweebs," Dave said, dismissing it with a snort. "That's gonna happen anywhere, and you know it."

Santana shrugged.

"I thought… I thought we might actually…" Dave scowled, and the slammed his locker shut. "Fuck what I thought."

 _I thought we might make this school safe for us._ He didn't have to say it for Santana to hear it.

"Yeah, well, whatever," she said. She looked at her own jacket. "It was all to get elected prom king and queen anyway. Fat lot of good that did." Dave looked away. "What?"

"You would have won," he said finally.

"Huh?"

"If it hadn't been some stupid ass prank on Kurt. They elected me, so you would have won. It would have worked."

"Yeah, well, it didn't." Dave nodded, but there was something in his face… something Santana was coming to learn meant he was upset about something. "What?"

"What about… this?" he asked, gesturing between them. "Now that we didn't get elected, is this over, too?"

"Hell, no," Santana said, and then stopped short, surprised by her immediate reaction. "I mean… I guess not."

"Guess it still keeps everyone from figuring out what we really are."

"Yeah." Santana sighed. "That's a lot of it, I guess."

"A lot of it?" Dave asked, looking confused.

"Look, I never thought I'd say this, but I actually had a really good time at prom and everything," she admitted. Dave drew back a little and she laughed. "Don't get your testicles in a knot. I didn't mean it like that. But… I had fun. I haven't had fun like that in a long time."

Dave nodded. "Yeah. I know what you mean."

"I can relax with you. And okay, that's enough talking about feelings, because if we keep this up I'm pretty sure I'm going to hurl."

"Right there with you," Dave agreed. "So we keep going?"

"We keep going." Santana slipped her arm through his as they walked. It _was_ comfortable, and easy like it wasn't with anyone else. And Dave seemed to feel the same way. She could feel the tension leaving his body, and the warm solidity of his arm under hers. He covered her hand with his, and they both felt the connection.

And when they passed Kurt Hummel, walking the other way with his chin held high and all his defenses up, they both just smiled at him.


End file.
